


Just A Funny Thing

by HK44



Series: The Chef, the Doctor and the Lawyer [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crushes, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Pre-Poly, Pre-Relationship, Talking, Trans Character, Trans!Naruto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 12:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11148522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HK44/pseuds/HK44
Summary: To be perfectly honest, Naruto had always assumed his run-ins with illegal activity were going to be pretty much over until he'd passed the bar when Sakura agreed to give up underground cage fighting.It was always funny how the world seemed to just laugh in his face when he thought things like that and then bite him in the ass in the most ridiculous of fucking ways.





	Just A Funny Thing

Naruto plopped himself down backwards on the chair. He rested his chin on his arms folded over the top of the chair and gestured vaguely with one hand. “So. Chef, huh?”

Gaara stilled for a slight moment before dunking the plate back into the soapy dishwater. “Yes. I’ll start in the spring.”

“Mmm.” The chair creaked low as Naruto leaned back ever so slightly, catching himself by his elbows on the edge of the table. “You said you were picking up some training before then?” Gaara nodded light. “Cool, cool. Where do you work?”

“Ichiraku.” Water streamed from the tap bursting cold and freezing. He ran the plate under it. “The owner owed me a favour.”

“Oh, I love that place,” Naruto moaned. “I swear their takeout menu would be a staple in my life if I could afford it.”

Gaara grinned. “The food is quite nice.”

Naruto laughed. “It’s fucking _delicious_.” He rocked forward again, dropping his chair back on to four legs. “You do anything before them?”

Gaara paused. Air curled sour over his tongue. He gripped a soapy fork and turned his head ever so slightly to face Naruto’s lidded eyes. “I was an assassin.”

Most people always paused. Just for a second. Then they laughed, said, “Good one” and asked him what he _really_  did. No one ever took him seriously. Of course not. What assassin would casually utter those words, would ever admit it. 

Normally, he fell back onto the secondary part of his job. He worked at a funeral parlor part-time, he’d say. Which was true. Sometimes he’d have to break in to different parlors, different examiner offices (which were just funeral parlors for police stations when he thought about it) to get rid of any evidence left behind.

It still counted.

But Naruto just stared at him. Unimpressed eyes and thin-thin fingers rubbing his jaw. Like what Gaara had said was nothing.

With one hand, Naruto gestured vaguely, stifling a yawn with the other. “So you-” The breath escaped him. He shook his head, slapped his cheek a few times before righting his gaze back at Gaara, who twisted his face out of sight. “So you’ve killed people?”

Gaara dropped the spoon into the holder. It clattered against the other utensils, splattering small drops of soap. “Yes.”

“Huh.” Naruto dropped his jaw to his free hand. “Did it pay well?”

A quiet heartbeat of silence. Gaara dropped another soapy fork into the holder.

 _Clack_. “Yes.”

The chair creaked back again. The sound died out into thick silence. Heavy it felt. Like someone was pouring a vat full of molasses above him. It settled on the top of his head and slid down his spine. Icky. Thick.

Breathlessly suffocating.

“So do you _still_  kill people or... what?” Naruto gave a short laugh. His chair clattered back on all four legs. “No offense but I _don’t_  want to wake up with a gun in my face because you killed someone’s wife.”

Gaara frowned. “You won’t.” He looked at Naruto, right in the eyes. “No one could catch me.”

The easy grin slipped off of Naruto’s face. “So that’s a yes? To the... murder.”

Gaara shook his head. “I don’t do it anymore.” He eyed the ceiling for a brief second then turned back to the dishes. “I quit.” Wet sluck across his forehead and matted tiny freckles of soap into his hair. He dropped the bowl onto the dish rack. “Months ago.”

Naruto exhaled, slowly. A soft _hash_. “Okay.” His feet scuffed the floor from where he swung them. “Ya know, as a lawyer it’d probably be bad for me to house an assassin so...” He clapped his hands together, let the sound dispel into silence and finished with an uneasy, “Good.”

The door creaked open beside them. Sakura threw down her bag and slumped against the closing door. It slammed shut. Spragites of dust flustered down from the chipping ceiling.

“If I have to schmooze one more middle aged man about why he cannot order beer at a _family_  establishment,” she moaned, “I’m gonna drive someone’s head through a wall.”

“The fat guy again?” Naruto asked, pushing up from the table.

“You gotta more specific,” she muttered. She peeled off a shoe and threw into the corner. “They’re all fat guys.” She tugged off her other shoe. “Fat, bald and reeking of cigarette loneliness.”

“Coffee?” Gaara suggested, already moving his soapy hand to the electric kettle.

Sakura rubbed her hands down her facing, groaning. “Tea?”

He made an affirmative noise at the back of his throat, shaking his hands out into the sink before flipping the kettle on and searching for the bag of tea she liked best. Behind him, she slumped down into a chair. Weariness was caked into her skin. She seemed... _gray_. Her body gave out, flopping over the table, her hands outstretched to Naruto, who collected them into his and leaned over to kiss the back of her head.

In front of him, the water was rumbling to a boil. Gaara flicked the switch and poured the water into a small mug. The moment it hit the teabag, the clarity immediately dispelled away. A low greenish gray fogged inside the cup, rising to the rim.

He stirred it twice then dumped half a packet of sugar into it. The remaining curled twistingly over the back of his tongue. He rolled the paper wrapper into a ball. It tipped a little but didn’t roll away as he dropped it beside the sugar box and walked away.

Leaning back up, Sakura took the mug with both hands, “Thanks, Gar,” she said.

“Three minutes to stew,” he said.

She smiled at him and sat back in her chair, the mug cupped close to her chest with both hands. Her face was a little brighter now. But there was still that aged exhaustion that didn’t suit her.

She hadn’t even reached the halfway point to her thirties.

Not enough life to be this weary.

Absentmindedly, he slipped his fingers through her hair. She exhaled deeply and coaxed her head down as he threaded his fingers towards the nape of her neck. When her shoulders, built up with thick tension, slumped restfully, he pulled his hands back. A quick glance at Naruto, who was watching them with a quiet and contemplating look on his face.

Gaara turned back to this dishes.

He still had a plate to finish.

“So,” Sakura said, stirring her tea, eyes glazed and gently watching Naruto, “what did you two do today?”

“Uh.” Naruto scratched just behind his ear. “I went shopping ‘cause we were out of...” He snorted. “Well, ya know, everything.” Sakura gave a sleepy hum. “And then I, uh, picked up T from the pharmacy and... bought a donut and then I came home and stared at a wall for two hours until Gaara got back.”

“Looks like you _really_  took advantage of your day off,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes. “Well, the TV’s busted and the wi-fi fucked off to who knows where after I woke up and I’m outta data so...” He gestured vaguely. “Shopping.”

“And staring,” Gaara reminded quietly as he stacked the final plate away.

“Yeah,” Naruto said roughly. “Staring.”

Sakura pressed her mug, half-drunk, to the table. “What about you, Gaara? What did you do today?”

Naruto seemed to tense but Gaara ignored it, turning to face her, hands brandished tight on the countertop. “I went for a walk.” He licked his lips, trying to remember what else he did. “I also scheduled some time to work at the restaurant this weekend.”

“That’s nice,” Sakura mused. “You did say you wanted more hours.”

“Experience.”

She nodded and pulled her mug back to her mouth, eyes slipping shut as she drank the rest of her tea. Gaara glanced to the clock on the stove. It was only six o’nine. But she’d been up for the morning shift since five fifteen. And from her hurried, scrambled texts that afternoon, they were short-staffed so she was being stationed for the afternoon run as well, wouldn’t get home ‘til around six.

He looked down at her bag. Normally it was slumped, weighted into itself by the end of day, but now it was still full and upright. Red peeked through the bare opening.

Seemed she’d skipped lunch as well.

He moved to the fridge. “Did you skip lunch? I can make you something...”

She gave an annoyed yawn. “It’s fine. I’ll make something-” She pushed up from the table. “-after I take a nap.”

Naruto stood up too. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” She let out another yawn and fished her phone from her pocket, dropping it onto the table and slumping towards her bedroom. “If my boss calls to say I’m working the morning shift again, tell him I’ve been working the morning shift for the last three weeks and a) I quit and b-” The tiredness in her voice vanished. Venom replaced it, thick and copious. “-I’m gonna kill him.”

“Okay,” Gaara said.

Before following Sakura, Naruto flashed an odd look at him. “Babe, before you head off-”

They disappeared into the tiny strip of hallway that led to their room. Gaara rubbed his cheek. His skin was damply clammy. He turned back to the sink. Soap suds still stuck to the sides of the metal container. He pulled out a glass and filled it up with water before washing the remaining suds down into the drain. He filled his cup with water again.

It tasted strangely stale.

He drank it all anyway.

Placing the cup down on the counter, he rattled his mind for something else to do. Normally, this would be about the time he began surveillance, if he hadn’t already, for his clients. Something in his gut itched at him to go out, follow _someone._ Anyone.

Just to get out of the house.

He’d already been on a thousand walks. There was only so many places he could reach on foot.

Sakura’s voice, muffled but still loud, sounded from the next room.

Sakura.

Lunch.

He grabbed the fridge handle and pulled out an almost empty jar of jam. He could make her something to eat. Stick it in the fridge. Something simple, so he pretend he made it for himself and then decided against it. That way she wouldn’t look at him with those “ _you really didn’t have to, please stop”_ eyes.

He opened up a cupboard and frowned. No peanut butter? He checked the other cupboards. Nothing. Nada.

Zip.

Pausing, he considered his options. He could just _make_  the sandwich. Or something else with jam.

Or he could go bother Naruto, who went shopping that morning, about it.

He grit his teeth and moved to Sakura’s bag. He pulled out the still shiny, albeit slightly _soft_ , apple and began chopping it up. Apples and jam.

Perfect.

He glanced back at the bag and then to the doorway that led into the hall. His gut twitched again. He considered his options then gave up, grabbing the bag and walking towards the bedroom.

* * *

 

Naruto closed the door behind him. Sakura had just... _thrown_  herself out on the bed. “Remember when you had class?” he asked. She grabbed a pen off the bedside table and threw it at him. He dodged it. “Ha! You mi- Ow!”

He rubbed the top of his head where she’d lobbed another pen at him. Rolling over onto her back, she pushed back her bangs and gestured rapidly at him. “What’s up, Nart?”

He fidgeted a little. Okay, okay, how did you just... _confess_  to the love of your life that they made a _dumbass_ decision and had invited a _murdered into your home to live with you_?

How!

In the fuck what he supposed to just _say_  that?

Maybe there was a card?

“Oi!” Sakura shouted, snapping him from his thoughts. “Earth to ADHD.”

He rolled his eyes. “Uh, so, _Gaara_ , ya know, told me... something pretty... something today.”

“Something pretty something?” she asked dryly.

Naruto waved his hands rapidly. “Just- Shut up!” She raised her hands in mock surrender. He pointed at her with both hands. “Gaara... he- he-”

God, he needed to look for a card to break the news.

“He told me... he told me that he used to-”

“Kill people?” Sakura cut in.

Naruto blinked. Then squinted at her. “How did you-”

“He told me when I met him,” she said, like it was _nothing_. Like living with a murderer, serial killer, assassin-man was a thing _everyone_  did so it didn’t _matter._

“And you- you just? Let him into our home?” Naruto spluttered. “ _What?”_

She shrugged. “It was back when I was still fighting,” she explained. “And, ya know, I didn’t really take him too seriously until the guy he said he’d been hired to kill showed up dead in the papers the week after.”

“And you _still let him into our home_?”

Wearily, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, like Naruto’s incessant questions were bothering her or something, which, _what?_  “It’s not like I asked him if he wanted to move in _when_  he was still killing people. I asked _after_.”

“Because _that_  makes all the difference.”

“Naruto, it’s not that big of a deal.” She sat up, propping herself on his pillow, the thief. The murderer-inviting _thief_. “We met up again at the gym. He said he hadn’t seen me in the fights recently, I told him I’d quit a few months after the last time we saw each other. I asked him how things were going, he told me he quit his job too and needed a place to stay while he worked part-time at Ichiraku’s. It’s close by so I asked him how soon he needed residence and he said anytime soon because he was tired of living with his sister and we had an extra space so.” She shrugged. “I asked him if he wanted to stay with us for a bit.”

Naruto gaped at her. Then he dragged his hands down his face. “I’m beginning to get why you _lusted_ after Sasuke for _forever_ ,” he moaned into his palms.

“Really?” Sakura closed her eyes. “ _Really_?”

Naruto shook his finger at her. “Sad stories are your catnip!” he said. “And weirdos who seem like they’re changeable, like _you_  could change them, are your kryptonite.” He spluttered for half a second before spitting out, “Or the other way around!”

She stared at him for three seconds straight, unamused and tired. “Okay, I’ll give you Sasuke but unlike with  _him_ , I don’t plan on trying to seduce Gaara or  _marry_ him. I was just trying to be nice!”

“You could’ve been nice by _not_  letting a murderer into our house!” Naruto snapped, ready to make his departure because, _yes,_ that was good line to end on.

He yanked the door open and stumbled back, heart pounding.

Gaara stood there, eyes narrowed and a knife in his hand. “I prefer the term assassin,” he said simply, like, _these were just things people said on a daily basis_. “Murderer sounds like a crazed man getting revenge on his cheating wife and her lovers.” Half a second beat by. “Also it’d be _ex_ -assassin.”

Naruto slammed door in his face and shoved their dresser in front of it. Sakura stared at him, bewildered.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“He had a knife!” Naruto whispered-yelled because he was _panicking_. He threw open the window.

“Naruto, get away from there!” Sakura said, grabbing his waist and trying to pull him from where he was attempting to crawl out onto the fire escape. “He was probably making something to eat and needed to ask where something was or if you even bought it.”

“ _Or_ he was trying to carve out our hearts _because he’s insane_ ,” Naruto hissed.

“Um, your door isn’t soundproof,” Gaara called out through the door.

Naruto pointed at the door. “ _Insane_.”

“Or just waiting to _ask_ a question,” Sakura whisper-hissed back. She pushed down the window and locked it in place. Then she shoved the dresser to the side, one-handed because that’s how she was, and swung open the door. “What’s up, Gaara?”

“Bag,” he said, handing over Sakura’s bag. “You left it out. And I took your apple. Also where’s the peanut butter?”

Sakura slung around and slumped, arms crossed, against the doorway. She leveled her gaze at Naruto. “Did you get peanut butter?”

“I-” He glanced at the window then back at them. “I-”

“Oh, forget it,” she grumbled, pushing back Gaara and marching to the kitchen.

Gaara stood in the doorway for a few seconds, just holding up the knife but _not_  looking _totally_  insane. He nodded his head at Naruto and walked off. Ten seconds later, Naruto was scrambling after them.

* * *

 

When Gaara rounded the kitchen, Sakura had her arm shoved into the small crook where they kept paper bags stored. She yanked a smaller bag out and turned it upside down, shaking it briefly. A jar of peanut butter rolled out and slapped to the floor. She snatched it up. Her free hand balled up the bag and chucked it to the trash bin near the door. Catching the lid, she twisted it off with an audible pop just as the paper ball flopped through the trash bin lid.

She jammed the open jar of peanut butter to the counter.

He paused, waiting for anything else.

But instead of slamming around any further, she just pressed her face into her hands and sank to the floor.

“Babe?” Naruto skirted around Gaara. “Hey, hey, what’s up?”

“I’m so tired,” she mumbled through her fingers. “I think I’m dying.”

"You’re just hungry,” Naruto murmured. He pushed her hair back and kissed the top of her head. 

He stood up and grabbed the moderately full plate of apple slices Gaara had cut up. Handing it to her, he huddled close to her and kept stroking back her hair. She nibbled on the edge of a slice of apple. She didn't look particularly appetized by it.

Gaara got that. Sometimes he went long periods without eating anything of sustenance, long weeks of surveillance and _planning_ taking up the brunt of his focus. Then, when he'd finally settled at the dining room table, he found he couldn't eat anything. _Didn't_ want to eat anything.

Nothing was good.

Nothing was tasty.

What was the point?

Though, if he forced the issue long enough, his appetite came back.

He grabbed the peanut butter and offered it to her. With a weak grimace, she accepted it and _dragged_ her apple slice through the cream. When she finally stopped coating the slice, the peanut butter seemed to tower tremblingly on top of it.

"That's a lot," he noted, rolling the half-cut apple off the counter and into his hand.

"Only way to eat it," she said before coughing. "Fuckin-"

She hacked, pounding her chest. Gaara watched her curiously. In the back of his mind, he knew he should help somehow but...

How?

He drew his attention to the apple in his hand then turned to cutting board as her hacking coughs died out, Naruto murmuring beside her. He pressed the flat end of the apple half into the board and began slicing it. A seed caught on the blade. He shook it off into the sink. The back of his hand tapped the glass jam jar.

Slowly, he slid it to the spot above Naruto and Sakura. "There's jam too if you wan- _Fuck_." He pressed his finger to mouth. Rust bled out against his tongue. He pulled it away, frowning. A reddish line, liquid, slicked down the side of his finger. He stared at it, transfixed. Then squeezed his fingers into his palm. "There’s jam too if you want it."

Sakura was already up. For a second, her focus turned to the jam but snapped back to him almost immediately. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he muttered. He drew his hand out. Blood still slicked over it. Some had smeared over his thumb. He fisted his hand again. "Nothing."

"Idiot," Sakura grunted, grabbing his hand. With wide eyes, she examined the cut. "Doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches…” She turned around. “Nar-"

"Got it!" Naruto yelled from the bathroom. "Shit, wait, which- No! I got it!"

He came back out with a small red bag. Sakura unzipped it and rummaged through the bag, one hand still gripped tight around Gaara's wrist. She leaned over him, turning on the tap. Tepid water ran over his hand. Red ran slick into the drain.

He watched.

"Okay, this might sting." Sakura shook a white canister before spraying its contents closely over the wound. It didn't sting. She grabbed a spool of bandage. Then frowned and looked into the bag. "We don't have any bandaids?"

Naruto, who was watching the whole procedure with transfixed interest, blinked rapidly. "We should." He fiddled through the bag then brandished both hands on his hips and made direct _indirect_ contact with Sakura's eyes. "We don't."

"Naruto-"

"I forgot, okay?" He crossed his arms, scowling. "I had finals!"

She unraveled the spool of bandage, ripping off half a foot of it. "It's been three months! You're supposed to check-"

"Every month, I know, I know," he muttered. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Well, it's not like _you_ checked either."

" _You're_ the one who gets injured all the time," she lobbed back, firmly wrapping up Gaara's finger. She taped the bandage in place and squeezed his wrist fleetingly before dropping it to his side and turning full-force on Naruto like a hurricane, gale force winds and all.

He stumbled back. "That's-"

"Completely relevant!" She jabbed her finger at him. "When you're the one who uses all the bandaids, you're the one who needs to make sure we  _have_ bandaids."

He rubbed his face but relented. “Alright, _alright_ , I’m sorry.” He crossed his arms and nodded at Gaara. “How are you?”

Gaara gazed down at the bandage wrapped tight over his finger. Beneath the wrappings, he could just barely see his blood beginning to leech through. “Shocked.”

Sakura whirled on him. Panic bled into her face. “ _What?_ ”

Leaning back just a bit, Gaara said, “I’ve never bled before.”

The taut tiredness in her face melted away. “Oh. Different kind of shock.” She paused, arms crossing high over her chest. “Really? Never?”

Gaara nodded. He’d seen others bleed before. Had made others bleed before. But he himself had never _actually_ witnessed blood coming from his own body. He glanced down at the bandage and the tiny splish of blood he could see staining into the bandage. It was new.

It was interesting.

He squeezed his hand into a fist. The wound _burned_. His hand flexed harder and harder into it itself until the tightened squeeze of his muscles overtook the pain. His lip quirked, halfway caught between wanting to stretch into a maniac’s grin or frown in anguish.

The unbreakable, the _untouchable_ Shukaku. Broken by his own hand. Injured by his own hand.

Wasn’t that funny?

Naruto was watching him with an odd look on his face. In his hand, he had a tight grip on a single apple slice. Gaara gestured loosely at the jam with his fist and said nothing, though he felt like he was _supposed_ to say something. Whatever it was seemed lodged at the back of his throat, trying to splurge into fruition something that made sense, but…

Sakura glanced between the two of them before zipping up the first aid bag and tucking it under her arm. “Okay, um, if you feel sick or anything, just come get me.”

She began walking off then stopped. Loping back between them, she stuck the jar of peanut on the plate with the apple slices and vanished off to the hallway.

Naruto watched her go. Turning back to Gaara, he gave him a once over then stepped back, shoving his hands into the deep recesses of his pockets. “So…”

Gaara didn’t say anything. Part of him wished that he hadn’t quit because there were a lot of ways to avoid conversation that he’d been taught and most of them involved a knife or weapon of some sort. But it was less that he wanted to avoid the conversation and more that the silence that trickled between them like heavy molasses felt overwhelmingly difficult and he was attuned to avoiding tense silences.

There was something he was supposed to say. Something he was supposed to do. He could feel that nagging at the back of his mind but when he tried to drag it out to the forefront, tried to figure out _what_ it specifically was… nothing came.

Nothing happened.

And Naruto wasn’t much help. He just stood there, rocking back slight but noticeably on his heels. His eyes watched Gaara’s face, carefully guarded. His gaze never flickered.

What was he waiting for?

Why wouldn’t he just say something?

“Do you need something?” Gaara asked after a few minutes. His voice felt brittle as he spoke.

Naruto watched him for a second more before saying, “Why did you choose to stop?”

Gaara paused.

Why did he- Oh.

“I met a boy,” he said. His fingers twitched against his side. “He refused to give up and I’d-” He faltered. Rock Lee had been an interesting case. And the only unchecked one in Gaara’s book. But Gaara didn’t like to think about it. Or him.

Or anything involving him.

It brought a sour taste to the back of his mouth.

“You’d?” Naruto prompted.

Gaara frowned at him. “I’d been instructed to make him hurt for as long as he still had life. Slow torture. Constant.”

Naruto whistled low. “Wow.”

Humming in response, Gaara squeezed his hand back into a fist. The pain bit into him again. “He kept… fighting. And I didn’t understand. Some fight but they usually give up pretty quickly. But he kept… _trying_.” He looked at his hand. “It was weird.”

“You quit because it was weird?”

Gaara blinked. “I quit because I had a breakdown.”

Naruto’s eyes shifted from where they’d been baring into his. “Oh.”

“I had a breakdown because of him,” Gaara explained, the words tumbling out from his mouth like a burst of water from behind a crumbling dam. “He wouldn’t die. And I didn’t understand why. And then his step-father came home early and found us. He wasn’t part of my mission and I had _explicit_ instructions to only dispose of the boy.

“At the time, I thought his father knew that because he threw himself in front of the boy and tried to stop me from killing him.” His hand relaxed and he cut his gaze to Naruto’s eyes, drawing them back him. “Many parents don’t do that. Either fear captivates them or they value their lives over their child’s. But he was different.”

“He cared,” Naruto filled in.

“He did.” Gaara locked his jaw. “And the boy cared for him. Kept trying to fight back even though I’d broken almost every bone in his body.”

Naruto winced. Gaara ignored him. He turned and leaned against the counter, staring at the wall opposite him.

“And his father tried to get him to stop and tried to fight me off instead but I-” He exhaled slowly. “I was tired of them by then. I left. A few days later, I broke into his hospital room. I’d intended to get rid of him quickly but he-” Gaara swallowed, the memory settling painfully into his head. He cleared his throat. “His father was in the hallway. He was begging the doctors for help, for assisted care. Money was no issue, just anything to help his son.

“It broke something in me, I guess. Or maybe it was the way the boy had woken up and was trying to punch me with his broken arms.” Gaara scuffed his feet against the floor. “Sometimes I think it was the beginning, it was the fight. When it was just me and him and he wouldn’t give up because he couldn’t bear to disappoint his father and all that he’d taught him about determination.”

Wrapping his arms around himself, Gaara dropped his head. “I didn’t understand why he kept trying to win or why his father kept trying to help him when there was nothing that would be capable of fixing him and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It…” He frowned. “It overtook me. Finally, I just-” And he relaxed with the thought, dropping his whole body slump. He locked his jaw again. “It lasted quite a while and at the end of it, I told my sister and my brother that I quit. This boy had ruined the job.”

“Because he wouldn’t die?” Naruto asked.

Gaara shook his head. “Because he wouldn’t quit. Because he loved his father and the ideals they shared. I didn’t understand that. He fought back not because it was human instinct or out of some sense of personal need to survive but because he didn’t want to disappoint someone he loved.”

“And you- you didn’t _understand_ that?”

Quietly, he sucked on the edge of his tongue, trying to sort out a way to explain it. “It’s not- I-” He faltered. “My life up until that point had been structured in such a way that doing what I did was out of routine. I didn’t do it to appease anyone besides myself. After I quit, my father was furious. I did not care. I still don’t care.”

Naruto tapped the counter. “What about your siblings?”

“They were fine with it. They’d long since evolved out of the killing aspect of what we do. I suspect they were surprised when I stopped but ultimately they didn’t seem to care.” If anything they had seemed relieved, though Gaara couldn’t tell if that was because his mental lapse was finally over or if it was because they had long been wanting him to stop. “They let me stay with them while I sorted out what I wanted to do and defended me against our father’s tyranny and rage.”

“Ah,” Naruto said, mouth pressed in a thin line and eyes widely not looking at Gaara.

Gaara shrugged. “They’re kind to me. They…”

Tamari’s hand sweeping over his hair while she held his poisoned body over the toilet bowl. Kankuro snorting as Gaara’s trembling ten-year-old fingers tried to apply his makeup correctly. Smiles. Laughter. Always with him, never at him.

The way they both panicked but rose up for him in the middle of his quake.

He fisted his wounded hand once more. “They care. About me.”

Naruto’s eyes slid back to his face, curious. “Do you care for them?”

Gaara paused then rocked forward. “I think so.”

He did. He couldn’t quite… _figure_ it out. But it felt like care. It felt important.

He was sure, in some way, somehow, they meant enough to him. And he was sure they knew that, even if he’d never expressed it between all the mild death threats and scowling.

Naruto didn’t ask for much more than that though. He just looked Gaara over like he was suddenly seeing him in a whole new light and then nodded. “Okay. Well, um.” He fiddled with his fingers, eyes cutting to his hands. “Night.”

It was only seven twenty-two. Still, Gaara nodded back. “Good night.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Naruto slipped away. To Gaara, he was peculiar. Like Rock Lee. And Sakura. Something different about him. About her.

About everyone.

He picked up his blood-slicked knife and washed it slowly before dropping in next to the other damp and drying utensils.

The world was strange and getting stranger. Turning off the kitchen light, he was curious what scenarios the morning would bring him.

* * *

 

The moment the door creaked open, Sakura was up, eyes wide and blared in half-toned panic. Naruto dodged her pen and waved her down before tugging his shirt up over his head and throwing it in a corner. Afterwards, he wiggled out of his binder and groaned. The knots in his shoulders were tight. His lower back seemed to just give out.

“How long have you been wearing that?” Sakura muttered, voice hoarse with sleep.

“I don’t remember,” he said, peeling off his pants and crawling into bed beside her. “I didn’t look at a clock until I got home.”

“Idiot,” she huffed but she wrapped her arm around the curve his shoulder and down his back so he figured it was all good. “So you make nice?” He hummed in affirmation. “Good Naruto.”

He snorted. “I’m not a dog.”

“And _yet_ …”

He swatted at her. “Shuddup.”

She laughed and threaded her fingers through his hair. It felt insanely good. God, he loved her. Instantly, Gaara flickered through his head and he winched.

“Also, I, uh, I like him.” He prodded her stomach. “Like smooch-style like.”

Her fingers stopped in his head, hand going flat as she stared at him, eyes glinted in partial amusement. “Weren’t you _just_ whining about how he was a murderer who murdered everything?” she asked.

“Well, that was before I found out that he isn’t a murderer who murders everything _anymore_. And also…” He trailed off before sighing deeply. “He has a _really_ nice ass.”

“Oh my god,” she moaned. She pulled his hair. “You better not cheat on me.”

“I won’t!” He licked his lips. “Probably. Maybe.” He ducked his head into the crook of her neck, rolling on top of her. “I’m gonna try _really_ hard not to.”

She swatted the back of his head and snorted. “Why did I ask you to marry me?”

“Because I’m marriage material,” he said, “and I’d be the best husband ever. In the world. Full stop.”

Slowly, she drawled, “ _No…_ ” He scowled and nipped her ear. Snorting, she pushed him away and resumed threading her fingers through his hair as he cuddled back into her side. “Look, just don’t do anything gross and I won’t have a reason to be pissed.” He nuzzled her cheek affectionately and she kissed him lightly before pulling away and running her fingers through his hair once more. “So, you’re okay with him living with us for the next few weeks then?”

“I guess so,” Naruto said into her side. “I mean, if he _really_ needs a place, then it’s _fine_.”

“And you take back what you said about me liking tragic men?”

“Oh, for the love of-” She twisted her grip in his hair. Wincing, he swatted at her wrist. “I take it back, I take it back!”

“Good,” she said, moving her arm to rest against his back. She yawned and threw her leg over his waist. “Because you’re the only tragedy I’m into.”

“Rude,” he grumbled. “I’m goddamn miracle.”

“Tragedy,” she retorted back, yawning once more. “Now shut the fuck up so I can sleep.”

He snuggled up closer to and buried his face into her chest, humming low in his throat. Over the deep inhales and exhales of her breaths, he could hear the light whir of their standup fan. And somewhere in the apartment, something creaked low. For a moment, he speculated about what Gaara was doing. Just entering his room or slipping into bed? Going to the bathroom to take a shower? A bath?

Maybe he was making something else to eat. Or leaving.

Naruto curled his arms into his chest and closed his eyes. In the back of his mind nudged a little thought, a little _want_. Pushing it the back where all his worser thoughts laid, he exhaled sharply and curled closer into Sakura’s arms.

He could speculate in the morning how worthwhile discussing _that_ was with someone. But for now, he just wanted to take the day’s actions, roll them into a ball in his mind and let them expand out in his dreams while he slept in girlfriend’s arms and no one else’s.

Even so, his back felt a little barer than normal and as he shifted slight, he could feel Sakura’s calloused hands rub gently over his bare skin.

She was a fighter and she liked it but she stopped.

Gaara was a fighter and he liked it but he stopped.

Shaking his head and squeezing his eyes closed, Naruto threw both an arm around Sakura’s waist and huddled right up into her, despite the heat that waned at them and despite knowing full well that they’d be sweaty and stuck together in unpleasant ways come the morning.

He shouldn’t think things like that, no matter what the circumstances. Sakura was the love of his life, he knew that.

He’d _die_ for her.

But still.

Gaara was interesting in a half-creepy, half-intriguing way.

And besides, Naruto was always wanting what he couldn’t have or, rather, what he shouldn’t have been wanting. Like the spicy, five jalapenos out of three rated ramen. Or the lawyer shtick. Or being better than Sasuke in every respect of their academic lives.

This was normal for him. Perfectly fine and sane behavior.

With that thought, he relaxed and drifted off into soft dreams of boys with pretty red hair and girls with pretty green eyes and ignored the fact that things he couldn’t have or, rather, shouldn’t have been _wanting_ , he always seemed, by some miracle or act of God, receiving in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Was I expecting to write another thing for this AU? Kind of. Was I expecting to write this much? Fuck no. Do I regret it? A little bit.
> 
> ANYWAY, hope all of you somewhat enjoyed this.
> 
>  
> 
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